The Taxman introduces us to Badass paying his
taxes and getting an up close and personal experience with the
beginning of a Zombie Apocalypse.

Goddamn Mr. Smith! What the fuck is wrong
with yo eyes? I said. Well that little ol man come at
me like a fat kid to a cupcake: mouth all gapin open, eyes all
crazy and arms swingin. I had just enough time to reach out
and grab that mutha fucka round his throat, but that didnt
stop him. He just kept swingin. It was right bout then that
I realized this mutha fucka aint right. He got that shit
thats been goin round. So Im standin there with
both hands wrapped round his ol skinny neck, and I looked around
and everybodys just starin at me.
I said, Goddamn, somebody call the po-lice. Shit.

The Sweet Baby Jesus School of Immaculate
Toddlers

Join Badass in an action packed, full-on Zombie
confrontation at the Sweet Baby Jesus School of Immaculate Toddlers.

By that time, dead thang number two was back on
his feet and coming at me. I jumped back and swung with all
I had. Cut that mutha fuckas head clean off. Nastiest God damn
thing I ever seen: headless body standin there with some ol
thick ass black shit oozin out its neck hole. It started leanin
and fell over the railin down to the first floor. I may have
misspoke, that mutha fuckas head was sittin on the floor
lookin up at me, and them jaws still workin. Now that was the
nastiest thing I ever seen.
I kicked that head down the stairs and looked over the railing.
Lookin up at me was a whole herd of dead folks. They was lookin
at me like I was the last bread stick in the basket at Olive
Garden. Them mutha fuckas was hungry, and they was coming up
them stairs.

The Backyard BBQ

What do you do when a zombie crashes your backyard
BBQ? You call Badass Jones Zombie Hunter. Backyard grillin,
bone crunchin, and zombie killin: dark humor at its' best.

Finally I told him, "Alright. Standard fees
apply. Two fifty a head, plus expenses. So bout three hundred
should cover it. Now if you want me to haul off the carcass,
it'll be another two."
Well he dug out a fat roll of bills from his front pocket, peeled
off three Franklins, and held them out. "In this economy
I'll save myself the two hundred and just toss her over my neighbor's
fence," he said as he winked at me.

We've Lost The Walmart

Going to Walmart on payday is bad. Going to Walmart
when it's full of zombies is a whole other level of pain. Come
along with Badass Jones as he deals with the undead shoppers
and a lunatic with a rifle.

I stood there watchin them grumpy old dead men.
They moved slow: about the speed they would have if their wives
were draggin them through the store pickin up the weekly groceries.
As soon as I took a step toward them though, they all three
come alive and broke into a sprint. Before I knew it, they were
on me. I dropped the one on the right and the one on the left
with a couple of shots from the forty-fives, but the one in
the middle hit me right in the chest and knocked me on my ass.
He landed right on top of me. The forty-fives clattered to the
floor, as I grabbed the mutha fucka's head. He was doin his
damndest to get his teeth into me, and he was a whole lot stronger
then I expected. I wrestled around with him for a minute, and
gave his old bald head a quick twist. I heard a muted snap,
and his body went limp. His jaws kept chompin as I rolled his
dead carcass off of me. I jumped up, dusted myself off, and
picked up my pistols. Out of habit, I looked around to see if
anyone was watchin. That was pretty fuckin embarrassin: gettin
knocked on my ass by an old dead man.